


Making Time for What's Important

by CollisionTheory



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Clones, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fingering, Foxiyo - Freeform, Gentle femdom, Oral Sex, adventures in bureaucracy, as in very gentle like it barely counts, dunno if this is M or E so I went with E
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:01:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28380591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CollisionTheory/pseuds/CollisionTheory
Summary: 40% worldbuilding, 60% Commander Fox surprising Riyo with something romantic after he springs her from a meeting. The worldbuilding comes first and the story starts after she's already been freed.
Relationships: Riyo Chuchi/CC-1010 | Fox
Comments: 11
Kudos: 31
Collections: Commander Fox





	Making Time for What's Important

**Author's Note:**

> If you're purely here for the reason this is rated E in the first place, skip to the line beginning with "Her sentence was cut off by the visual..." 
> 
> The context for the beginning is that Fox and another commander arranged a military exercise (with Senate approval) where the Coruscant Guard drilled extracting politicians and key leaders from the Senate building in the event of a Separatist attack. Riyo knew the GAR was planning something, but she didn’t know exactly what was going to happen. It turns out that Fox had planned the exercise to coincide with a meeting she had with Halle Burtoni, the senator from Kamino. So the Guard burst in on their meeting, blew out the window of Burtoni’s office, then extracted Riyo via an LAAT inside of which Fox was waiting.
> 
> This is going to be part of a chapter in a fic I'm working on where we follow Fox, Riyo, and several other members of the Coruscant Guard in the months leading up to and coming after Order 66.

The troopers began to jump out of the LAAT before it was even a few feet above the ground, leaving Riyo and Fox alone inside as the craft descended towards the landing pad with a deep, cyclic whine. Her eyes roamed over the vehicles visible in the hangar and on other landing pads; every time she got close to them, she had to reacquaint herself with how large they really were in person.

Riyo stayed in place as they touched down, engrossed in watching a group of clones clamber up a Republic attack ship and set to work on some unfinished nose art.

“This is where we get off, Senator,” said Fox. 

Sunlight slanted down through the gaps in the hull, casting the two in alternating bars of light and shadow. Motes of dust winked in and out of sight as they swirled in invisible air currents. Fox still gripped the overheard bar as tightly as though they were airborne.

He let his awareness shrink to the size of the LAAT. His eyes were drawn to Riyo as though she were the natural resting place for his gaze. Her dignity and resolve in the Senate, her respect and genuine interest whenever she spoke with his brothers, her calm beauty in the Coruscant afternoon… Fox felt each iteration without considering them. Right now, he just wanted to look at her.

“Fox? Could you…” Riyo turned around to look at him, and her question about the nose art design morphed into something else. The commander was gripping the metal of the overhead bar with one hand, while the other held the clasp of his utility belt over his core. His helmet was pointed straight ahead, but she could feel his eyes on her. 

She closed the distance between them. Not taking her eyes off the black T-shaped lens, Riyo slipped her hands around and up Fox’s neck to pop the seal of his helmet. He turned his head downwards to face her, and she could almost hear his breath through his respirators. 

He brought his hands over to cover hers as she lifted his bucket up past his chin. He gently pulled them away from the helmet and brought them together, cupping her bare hands in his gloved ones in front of his chest.

“Whenever you’re ready, my men will take you back to the Senate building to finish your meeting.” Fox’s voice was quiet, almost distant. He released her hands and found something else to do with his own, carefully adjusting the shawl over her chest as he spoke.

“For all Burtoni knows, I’m still needed here for the exercise.” Riyo sighed heavily, letting exasperation creep into her voice. “And she’d be the last person upset that ‘Kaminoan property’ was insisting on doing its job, messing up my schedule at the same time or not.” She shifted in place, bouncing her gaze across the cabin in disgust.

“I know, Riyo…but I have an after-action report to work on with my staff. We start now, and it’ll expedite the process for when the Thire and the other exercise observers get here.”

She smiled and bobbled her head from side to side to indicate that she understood. The small, quick gesture caught a beam of sunlight on her golden headdress and bounced it back off the white of Fox’s breastplate.

He sounded apologetic as he put an arm across her back to lead her out of the LAAT. The air around the landing pad was suffused with the rush of Coruscant traffic, and the sounds of metalworking and aircraft repairs whined and boomed deep inside the hangar.

Riyo wasn’t disappointed, or not truly anyways. She couldn’t fault him for trying to make his men’s lives easier- Goddess knows they were difficult enough- and ultimately, both she and Fox worked for the same thing in this regard.

Fox let her go as a group of his brothers approached them on the platform. He slipped back into his usual demeanor and cocked his head confidently.

“I make time for what’s important Senator. We’ll see each other sooner than you think.” 

***

As her shuttle came into view, one of the three guardsmen escorting her suddenly halted, hand flying up to his helmet to listen to something over one of the Coruscant Guard’s private comm channels. The others turned their heads towards their brother, one nodding as they stopped and turned around to face Riyo. 

“May we ask you something, Senator Chuchi?” said the man who had taken the com.

“Of course,” she replied.

“I’m Lieutenant Six- this is Shah and Cresh.” He splayed his hand out over his breastplate, then gestured to his brothers on either side of him. “We understand you have your duties, but we were hoping to ask you a favor.”

“A _quick_ favor,” added Shah, shrugging to adjust the strap of the blaster rifle slung over his chest. 

“If it’s something I can help with, I will.” She was intrigued, correctly figuring they wouldn’t have bothered asking her if it really was something she _couldn’t_ help with.

“We’re submitting some d-” began Six moments before an overly enthusiastic voice shot apart the sentence as it left his mouth.

“Good afternoon sir!”

Riyo started. A younger clone in grey working fatigues had noticed Lieutenant Six’s officer pauldron and sprang to rigid attention, both saluting and interrupting his superior while dropping the small box he was carrying. It hit the duracrete floor with an expensive-sounding _crack_.

Lieutenant Six prickled in annoyance and disbelief.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said gently to Riyo before starting off towards the offending trooper.

“ _This isn’t Kamino_ , shiny _…_ ” Riyo listened to the start of Six’s chewing-out session before Cresh turned to speak to her, cutting off whatever the lieutenant was saying.

“Some of us men here, there’s a policy request we’d like to make on behalf of the Guard. We need to submit the datawork to the appropriate legislative committee, but wanted you- not necessarily you, but ideally you- to review it first.”

“… _lucky those BlasTech parts cost fewer credits than it took to scrape you out of Jango’s shower drain…”_ Six’s words drifted up out of the background again. She tuned them out to speak.

“Sure Cresh, I can do that,” nodded Riyo, sounding positive. “It shouldn’t take too long. What specifically do you want me to review it for?”

“I uh…everything, really. It needs to look right, like you natborns filled it out.” There was something strange about talking to her. Not in a bad way- he just found it hard to believe he was speaking with a senator as though they were both actually people.

“… _who_ will _reassign you to a senator security detail and you will kriffing wish it had been for the long-necks once you see your orders…_ ” The lieutenant was still going. 

Shah had been listening mainly to Six’s rant up until now, but he’d paid attention to Cresh well enough to elaborate on what he had said.

“Jargon’s gotta be correct, proper formatting and phrasing, everything filled out as it should be- basically nothing that’d give anybody an excuse to dismiss us and not take us seriously- that’s what he means, Senator.”

Riyo’s expression became more serious. They all wished things weren’t like this, but wishes alone never changed anything _._

“Glad you found me today then. Hm… I have a little over two hours before I have to be somewhere, so I could potentially even get the datawork back to you by tonight. Here, take my comm number, you can transfer it to my datapad…”

Shah and Cresh exchanged a glance from under their buckets- they couldn’t see each other’s faces of course, but the brothers knew each other well enough to know the other was having the same reaction. As individual clones of junior rank, they couldn’t just “have” a politician’s personal comm number like this. Sure, they could delete it afterwards, but even in their comparatively relaxed community of aviation, the appearance-conscious nature of the Coruscant Guard as a whole still affected them. They were at the heart of the Republic itself, at the seat of its government, and for most Coruscant residents, interactions with the Corrie Guard were their only experience with clone troopers and the GAR as a whole. Anything that might give the impression that the Guard was involved in favoritism, taking political favors or bribes, or anything like that was something they were instinctively averse to.

Lieutenant Six, who had somehow appeared back with their group without any of them noticing, chose that moment to step in.

“It’s not exactly datawork ma’am- well it is, but it’s on flimsi. I’ve been keeping the copies in my office. Come, we’ll take you there.”

“Flimsi?” Riyo echoed back in surprise as they started off together. Flimsi was certainly… _archaic_.

They moved out of the hangar and landing pad area, heading for a spartan-looking office annex with steep, sloping sides in the distances. A couple of guardsmen with heavy flame projectors blasted away at any granite slugs they could find up on the walls, frying them until a small droid came to catch the falling plump, charred bodies in an old paint drum.

“We were surprised too. Figured it was required for their office by some regulation, but Shah said our brother who picked up the flimsiwork wasn’t even given, eh…” He hesitated as they kept walking. “Shah, what did they call it?”

“The stylus with a pigment dispenser at the end?” asked Shah.

“Yes, that.”

Shah thought for a moment, subconsciously worrying the strap attached to his rifle as they walked.

“Don’t remember.”

Lieutenant Six continued.

“Okay, the pigment stylus- the office didn’t have one, and they were the ones who instructed us to fill out flimsiwork specifically, mind...”

The lieutenant launched into the story of how they’d tried to get a ‘pigment stylus.’ Shah had gone to supply about it, but nobody knew of or had been able to find a serial number for a one. When he asked if they could just go through a list of the different items you could order, the trooper helping him had just stared at Shah over steepled hands for a long moment, like there was so much the man wanted to explain to him about his job that he didn’t even know where to begin. After informing him that ordering something whose serial number didn’t exist was impossible, the clone pleasantly told Shah not to worry- even if they had been able to order one, the request would have been of such a low priority designator that it would’ve taken months to arrive, so he should try and get the stylus another, faster way. Lieutenant Six told Riyo about how this was like dropping out of hyperspace straight into an orbital blockade- they were required to fill out flimsiwork which required a pigment stylus, but obtaining a pigment stylus was impossible.

Cresh knew that he would always have Shah’s and the lieutenant’s six regardless of the scenario, but he did wish they excelled more at lateral thinking. He’d brought up making their own pigment stylus in the shop, but a pilot had been the one to finally get a stylus for them; he’d just asked one of his friends working under Thorn’s command in the senate building, and that man been able to get one from a staffer who’d (allegedly) handed him an entire fistful of these artifacts like it was nothing.

Riyo followed Lieutenant Six and his men beyond a small lot for speeder parking, then halted for a moment to let a group of clones out jogging in their blacks run past them. They finally reached the building entrance where an acronym-rich sign painted on the wall cryptically welcomed them to CGASS-66. Six opened the doors with his code cylinder to let everyone in, and just as she passed through, Riyo caught the frustrated voice of one of the guardsmen outside with the flame projectors. 

“ _Barracks mascot_ my shebs…. we’ll kriffing never get rid of these things…” There was a noxious smell of something burning, then the doors sealed shut behind Riyo, clipping short the man’s mumbling and cutting away the fumes.

They stopped as Shah tapped the lieutenant on the shoulder.

“Right, right,” he replied, then briefly turned away to use a private comm channel in his helmet sans external audio for the second time.

Riyo glanced around the room as she waited. It had none of the elegance of senatorial buildings or accommodations; it was the duality of GAR simplicity and chaos. Clones in greys sat at workstations in front of stacked holoscreens displaying traffic and weather patterns all over Coruscant, endless charts and tables, lines of code, and arcs or intersecting lines that shifted as meaningless sets of numbers changed on screen. Cases and crates and boxes were stacked randomly against the walls, one partially obscuring a questionable morale-boosting poster for Coruscant Guard Air Support Squadron 66. One man was frantically checking the serial numbers on identical durasteel cannisters as a small droid brought them over, and another with heavy bags under his eyes was engaged in a very tense discussion with the hologram of a SoroSuub company representative.

“This way, ma’am!” Riyo jumped as Lieutenant Six spoke to her again.

He dismissed his other two men and beckoned for Riyo to follow him down a connecting hall.

“Is it possible for Cresh and Shah to stay? It’d be easier to explain my feedback and corrections if they were here in person,” said Riyo.

The lieutenant shook his head as they turned a corner, heading towards the offices in the back of the building.

“No m’am, and unfortunately I can’t stay either. You can work in my office- I’ve gotta take care of something- but I’ll be back in a bit if you want to review things with me later. I’ll pass on the feedback.”

He punched in a sequence of numbers on a small data terminal outside his office door.

“I asked Commander Fox once if we could replace these with facial recognition scanners.”

He turned his helmet to check Riyo’s expression as the office door hissed open.

“Yeah, he didn’t laugh either,” finished Six with a chuckle.

Once inside, Lieutenant Six pulled out his office chair and invited Riyo to sit down before presenting her with the flimsiwork and pigment stylus he’d been keeping safe in a locker. He then politely excused himself and shut the door.

Holding a pigment stylus and pouring over flimsi, Riyo almost felt like she was on the set of a period piece holodrama that made the daily proceedings of galactic politics much more scandalous and dramatic than they usually were. But she got over the feeling quickly and started to seriously review what the lieutenant and his men had given her instead of waiting for a famous Ithorian director to pop out of nowhere with camera droids and a film crew.

She wrinkled her brow as she got deeper into the document, resting her chin on her hand. She wished Lieutenant Six hadn’t left; something about this form was very unusual, the fact it was flimsi aside. Riyo would have to consult with her staff on certain aspects of Republic financial law to be sure, but she strongly suspected the clones had been given the bureaucratic runaround...

The office door slid open and closed behind her. She didn’t look up from the flimsi, assuming it was Six again and that he’d forgotten something and come back for it.

“Lieutenant Six, could you t-“

Her sentence was cut off by the visual impact of a gloved hand dropping a clone helmet onto the desk in front of her. The color scheme was unmistakable.

“Fox!” she spun around, eyes wide with surprise.

Fox was behind her with a small self-satisfied smile on his face. Their height difference was even more apparent from her seated position, and something about it tickled something inside her.

“I told you, senator- I make time for what’s important.” The commander’s voice was smooth and low, and he was smiling with a bit of attitude.

“Did you plan this out? You’re on duty- and didn’t you say you had a meeting to prepare for with your staff?” she questioned as she got up, putting aside the flimsiwork and stylus. 

Fox deliberately ignored her first question- she knew the answer anyway.

“I dismissed them until the AAR starts- developing their assessments as individuals, not as a group as we usually do, is something we’ve been working on. In the long-term it’ll make the Guard more flexible, more resilient from the top-down. Thorn and Thire have been making progress with their men too.”

Riyo crossed her arms over her shawl and nodded, thinking back to the mental block Lieutenant Six had faced in trying to get a pigment stylus for his men; he would definitely benefit from the type of exercise Fox had just described.

The commander walked over and sat on the chair she’d been sitting on. He braced himself with one hand on his thigh, and gently grabbed Riyo’s arm with the other as he looked into her face.

“And I knew you’d like something unexpected, Riyo.”

He squeezed her arm and silently gestured for her to sit on his lap. Riyo was looking at him, but more _past_ him and seemed distracted as she allowed him to pull her in and down. She sat so that she was straddling him.

“Something on your mind?” he asked with mild concern as he reached behind Riyo, taking his helmet off the desk and placing it on a crate against the wall close to him.

Riyo thought about it for a moment and put her arms around his neck. She would’ve liked to run her fingers through Fox’s hair instead, but that would frizz up his curls and Fox never wanted to look anything less than ideal while working- whatever he did (and however he looked) as a senior officer reflected back on the entire Coruscant Guard, and the Guard looked to him to set the example. 

“Hm, yes…I want your input on something, but we’ll discuss it later…maybe tonight,” Riyo told him, thinking about the flimsiwork and what Lieutenant Six’s team was trying to accomplish.

Fox nodded as Riyo spoke again and looked into his eyes, dark brown that shone gold inside when the light was right.

“You look tired,” she observed gently, brushing a cheek with her fingers.

“CC units don’t get tired.” Fox scoffed, mock skepticism in his voice.

“I don’t know any units.”

“I can introduce you to a few if you like.” He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose as she unsuccessfully tried to avoid him for that statement.

“Fox…”

“You know Riyo, if your favorite unit falls out of a transport to his death or finally gets hit by a sniper tomorrow, you can always clone-”

“Fox!” She slapped his shoulder and jerked back, clearly not amused.

“Hah, I wouldn’t worry. The Pykes aren’t as competent as they think they are. My helmet is mostly red for kriff’s sake- how hard could it be to hit?”

She rolled her eyes and looked away as he went in to kiss one of the tattoos on her cheeks.

“Okay, no more talk like that…” whispered Fox as he kissed the second tattoo. 

Riyo sighed in his lap. 

“How much time do we have?” she asked, gesturing around at the office with a roll of her head.

“A little under an hour,” he said softly.

She murmured an “okay” as she finally leaned in to kiss him back. Riyo didn’t remember where his hands had been before, but now she was very aware of their hold on her waist. Their pace increased, and something stirred in the pit of her stomach as his hands began to shift around her. She pulled back as Fox went to kiss the side of her jaw, turning hesitantly towards the door with an intake of breath. 

“Nobody will bother us Riyo- already made sure.”

“Okay, just let me know if you…” her words faded as they kissed again and he adjusted her over his lap.

“I will,” he reassured her from somewhere below her jawline. “Armor stays on, but it’s alright…”

He caught the hint of perfume about her neck and hair, resinous and warm against a backdrop of vanilla and inji spice root to cut against the cold of the Pantoran moon. Fox wouldn’t have been able to describe it, but something about the scent was reminiscent of the sticky dessert buns she’d handed off to him once, or of a moist, syrup-soaked uj cake.

When Riyo felt Fox make a noise against her chest as he discovered the perfume, she suddenly wished that he were only in his blacks (or even less) so that she could feel closer to him, be closer to him. She hummed with satisfaction against his mouth as the feeling below her stomach intensified.

“Fox, help me with this…” Her words were breathy as they both shifted around to hike Riyo’s skirt up to her waist.

Once done, Riyo set the center of her body directly over the central ridge of his thigh plate. Fox kissed her deeply as she started to grind against it, timing her movement with the rhythm of her heartbeat. Before long they weren’t kissing at all anymore; her head was buried in the crook of his neck as she rocked her body over the top of his thigh.

“Riyo…” began Fox.

When she stopped grinding to look up at him, Fox sank back into his chair and pushed Riyo almost up on her knees so that she was a little taller than him. He put his hands on her shoulders, gently pushing her away as he searched her shadowed face above him. The light formed a halo around her lavender hair. He rubbed his fingers into the fabric of her shawl, taking in the flitting motions of her eyelids, the tilt of her head, the movement of her throat as she swallowed, the swell of her breasts beneath her top…

His breath hitched in his chest. Fox parted his lips to vocalize something he felt the need to speak, but what it was and how he wanted to say it were things he didn’t understand.

In the Coruscant Guard, Commander Fox’s words had the force of law. Though his men would follow his every order, it was he who served them; his brothers’ successes and failures, their morale, their cohesion and development as a single team with one overarching goal- all of it was ultimately his responsibility. Fox knew exactly who he was in this regard; he had to. They looked to him to cut through uncertainty and provide direction, to pinpoint their location in the fog and dark. But when he needed that, there was only himself, and he had just begun to realize how much more there was to himself than he knew. Subconsciously Fox knew that he couldn’t approach it from the perspective of who he had been before he had met Riyo.

He had the capacity for something more. More for her, more for himself. 

Riyo inclined her head to look down at him. The building ventilation system hummed as the background to their breathing. She took his face in her hands and gently roamed about with her fingers as though trying to understand the form of a sculpture purely through touch. And where she touched him, he felt sparks beneath his skin. 

When Fox spoke, his voice was gruff and edged with a subtle plea.

“Give me orders.”

Riyo dropped her hands and moved back a bit in surprise. Fox and millions like him had been created on somebody’s orders, had their lives jockeyed around like holochess pieces on somebody’s orders, and hundreds of thousands would likely die on somebody’s orders. The thought of treating him like, like _that_ , twisted up something like nausea inside her.

Fox’s expression changed as he read the thoughts etched on her face. Riyo felt tension in his hands and looked at him, realizing she’d gotten it completely wrong. This was something he’d never brought up before. He was looking up at her with complete, open trust as he had told her what he wanted. She didn’t completely understand yet, but Riyo knew he needed it too.

“The commander wants direction?”

She dragged her hand across his cheek, feeling his lips with her fingers, then his jaw, then his neck. Both were very aware of the rhythm of their own breathing. Riyo caught the surge of his pulse across his jugular and felt a little ball of giddiness expanding in her core. He was excited- she loved it.

Riyo pushed off his chest to re-adjust herself directly over his lap. She reached up behind her head to take off the golden hair ornament she was wearing. She carefully placed it on top of a box within arm’s reach, then focused her attention back on the man in front of her.

“Take off your gloves, Fox.”

He complied, watching her the whole time. Fox pulled her closer and grabbed under her shirt, moving his hands up from the warmth of her stomach towards her chest as he made to bury his face in her neck, inhaling the perfume that now distinctly was the smell of _her_. 

She blocked his head with hers when he got close, then took hold of his arms in a firm but gentle way.

“You said you wanted orders, trooper-” a mischievous smile broke over her lips “-so _wait for them_.”

_Yes ma’am._

Fox didn’t know if he’d said the words or just thought them, but it wasn’t like he was going to stop and think about it. Normal conscious thought had abandoned him in favor of vague impressions of amazement at how close she was to him, how he got to feel her and see her move, how she was doing this with him.

Riyo adjusted her hiked-up skirt a little, then gave Fox his assignment. This he was determined to carry out to the fullest extent possible.

Following her instructions, he put his palm down the front of her panties. He led with his first two fingers, slipping down the center of her vulva where she was warm and smooth from arousal. Something snapped to life in his brain as Fox felt how wet Riyo was while he stroked and exerted gentle pressure there. Knowing _that_ \- it made him smile. 

He pulled her flush against him as much as practical with a deep, an incoherent sound thrumming inside his chest. The pads of his fingers found her clit with rolling, circular motions, then again in the shape of the top of the letter vev to create some pressure and build up the sensation. He clutched Riyo against his armor and kissed her face, her mouth, her jaw and neck, and back to her delicious mouth with those lips. Fox couldn’t help himself. More stroking, more circles. More pressure, and then more again as she rocked over his hand with rising, shaky breaths. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the scent of her and that perfume as he shut his eyes to pleasure her and pleasure her.

Riyo longed to run her fingers through his hair- thick, curly, and dark unlike her own. But she just touched his face, and touched and sometimes squeezed his neck. She was slowly rising on the crest of a wave, her mind blank. With his free hand Fox went under her shirt, cupping and kneading her breasts, rolling over her hardened nipples. He slipped his fingers down away from her clit and hooked one inside her before trying for two. Riyo felt a pleasing pressure that approached but didn’t break ‘satisfying’ as he did his work fingering her. She pressed her feverish forehead to his as she breathed against Fox’s face, lost in him as her whole body responded to his touch.

Riyo involuntarily jerked over him when he brought his thumb in to massage her clit in tandem with the feeling his fingers were creating inside her. She let out a loud half-gasp, half-moan that was the soul of indiscretion and quickly buried her face in the fabric of his blacks at the base of his neck to stifle it, vocal cords humming and inner muscles clenching around Fox’s fingers- that one went _straight_ to his ego. 

Earlier Fox had considered that somebody might hear them- hence this low-traffic part of the building. Despite the fact that it was something he wouldn’t condone and didn’t really want to do, the possibility that somebody might actually have heard how well he had been able to please Riyo got him going a little. 

“Stop,” said Riyo.

He swallowed, pulling away his hand and drawing back from her, giving her room to breathe. He didn’t want to stop, but he was a good soldier- he could take direction despite what momentum and adrenaline were telling him to do. He also categorically refused to do anything she did not want him to do here. 

“Get up. P- put me on the desk” she continued. Riyo reflexively wanted to add ‘please,’ but managed to stop herself. Was that part of giving orders? 

Fox licked her off his hand, then with one arm he lifted Riyo up and cleared the top of the desk with the other. She felt weightless. She was a little surprised (though she knew she shouldn’t have been) that it took him absolutely no effort at all to carry her- at times she forgot how strong human men were.

Fox set her on the desk’s edge lengthwise. She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him with her a bit as she leaned back.

“Undo the clasps, open my shirt.” She gestured to them with a nod of her chin. Fox set to work, and she watched from an awkward position, a little bemused at how long it took him to figure the clasps out compared to the mere seconds it took her while undressing.

“Kiss me,” said Riyo as he finished.

Fox brought his face close to hers. Tousled hair, cheeks flushed almost 501st blue beneath her clan tattoos, her blissed-out expression- she looked so damn beautiful. 

“Where first?” he asked. He narrowed his eyes and smiled roguishly; Fox had plenty of ideas if she didn’t. 

But she did, and she whispered her new orders into his ear.

He kissed her on the mouth, focusing on her lips before moving down to the crook of her neck. Riyo brought her arms away from his body, supporting herself on the desk while he placed his hands on her stomach and moved his kisses down her chest to the tops of her breasts. Fox massaged her waist next as he teased a nipple with his lips, then gently with his teeth. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back, losing herself in the feel of his hands against her, of his breath and mouth leaving a trail of warmth down her body.

She breathed deeply and shook her head in frustration. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to last with her arms like this as long as he continued, she sank back completely onto the desk, cushioned a bit by the shawl bunched behind her. Fox drew back, not wanting to lay over her in his cold armor. On the desk, she opened her eyes halfway to watch him while she maneuvered to pull her panties down over her thighs and kick them off with her boots. They landed on some stacked manuals for troubleshooting avionics without the assistance of an R2 astromech. The absurd thought suddenly came to Fox in that moment that, had she just asked to do all this again while they floated in her senate pod after hours, he would have said ‘yes’ without question.

Fox knelt in front of Riyo, letting her wrap her legs around his neck and shoulders. He relaxed his jaw and mouth, then pressed his lips in an O over the delicate nub of her clit. He opened his mouth just enough to suck gently, and alternated between undulating motions with the flat of his tongue and tracing numbers with the tip. He followed her response as her breathing grew louder and more hurried. Riyo was collapsing, holding a hand to her mouth to stay quiet as she squirmed while he licked her and kissed her and did all the right things that she wanted.

He brought his hand up to do that thing she’d liked with his two fingers, slipping them inside her and slowly pulsing up or down against her inner muscles while his lips and tongue went straight for her center of pleasure up above. When her thighs closed around his head, Fox’s brain defaulted into an ancient evolutionary subroutine. The way she reacted to his face and fingers bound between her legs was intoxicating. He spread his tongue flat against her vulva to massage and lick her because that was all he wanted to do, then he rolled the tip against her clit and- holy osik, she tasted so good.

Then Riyo was finished. She shuddered in a silent moan as her contracting core almost pulled her into a sit-up. Her heart pounded in her ears, and all thought was driven from her head by a torrent of sensation. Blood rushed in her ears. She lay on the desk for a moment, enjoying letting everything ebb away until Fox stood up and pulled her into a sitting position at the edge.

After Riyo’s breathing had settled somewhat, she slid off the desk and into a standing position in front of him, smoothing her skirt out of habit.

“Fox…” her voice was low as she slipped her hands down between their bodies to tug at his codpiece. “Take this off.”

He was really looking forward to this.

Fox took off his utility belt to follow the directive immediately, then removed the piece and let it clatter to the floor. Riyo’s darkened eyes held his in a target lock as she pressed up against him, sliding a hand down to feel him through his blacks. She brought his head down with the other, grabbing the base of his neck and pulling him into a kiss, gently biting his lower lip.

His heart leapt in his chest like a misfiring speeder engine.

Throughout Fox’s life, the mental distinction between himself and his armor as ‘separate’ had been thin. It had only narrowed after he customized it and continued to carry out his mission- _the_ mission- from behind the red and white plates. The armor was why Fox existed, and without it, there was no Fox. But now as the fire on Riyo’s skin and the play of muscle and bone beneath were denied to him again today, he was confused by the sensation of being trapped and restricted by this part of himself, by wanting to trade oneness for separation to achieve oneness of another kind. 

As he made to grab her waist and slide around down past the small of her back, Riyo’s hand pushed past the waistband of his blacks and plunged downwards. _Kriff_. She did something with her fingers that made him gasp and reflexively jerk back, accidentally kicking his codpiece laying on the ground. It skidded across the floor and collided with something behind the desk which toppled over with a regrettably loud clang.

Fox audibly swore this time as plastoid footsteps scuffed to a halt outside the office. For a moment, both he and Riyo stopped moving.

“Everything all right in there?” called the voice. Its owner approached the door and rapped on its surface with the back of his hand.

Riyo’s fingers flexed back into motion inside his pants. She grinned like a Loth-wolf as she stepped on her toes to bring her face closer to his, whispering steadily as she stroked him.

“You will respond to your men when they ask you questions, _Commander_ Fox.”

His face and chest were heating up, a dozen different hormones zipped through his bloodstream, and he may have been developing tunnel vision. Riyo hadn’t stopped. He lunged sideways to grab his helmet, hands shaking slightly, and pulled the bucket on over his head as he tilted away from his partner.

“All good, brother.” He paused, trying to control his breathing and hoping the vocal modulator would work some magic on his strained voice. “Just getting something squared away for the lieutenant.”

Fox may have been a mess, but he did remember whose office they were in.

“Good to hear. See you at the AAR, sir!”

The guardsman’s footsteps faded as he walked away down the hall. Fox made to take his helmet off, but Riyo brought both hands over to grab his forearms and arrest his motion. Her eyes were narrowed as she shook her head. She relaxed her arms at her sides and stepped back away from him.

“My apartment- come there tonight instead of my office for the briefing. I’m cancelling it. We need to figure out how I can take care of _this-_ ” she reached over to his crotch and squeezed him gently through his blacks “-in light of your performance….”

She flushed deep blue as she smiled, and a warmth quite different from that of arousal bloomed inside his chest. 

“You’re dismissed for your meeting now, commander.” 

**Author's Note:**

> CGASS-66 = Coruscant Guard Aviation Support Squadron 66
> 
> The "sticky dessert buns" were 100% inspired by amukmuk's cinnamon buns in their Foxiyo stories. 
> 
> “Inji spice root” is ginger, but I didn’t want to say “ginger” because that didn’t seem Star Wars-y enough. “Inji” is a blatant rip-off of the Tamil word for “ginger,” but it’s a cute word so I wanted to use it unaltered. 
> 
> Thorn was never killed in this AU.
> 
> I wanted to write out the entire story of the clones struggling and failing to find a pen, but I thought it'd be too long so maybe I'll make that a totally separate one-shot instead....


End file.
